


You'll Think of Me

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She needs to let go and forget about him, but it's easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Think of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to and including Season 6, but before Season 7.
> 
> All lyrics used belong to Keith Urban.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

*I woke up early this morning around 4 am  
With the moon shining bright as headlights on the interstate  
I pulled the covers over my head and tried to catch some sleep  
But thoughts of us kept keeping me awake*

"Morning, Grace," Spencer greeted the profiler, who waved in reply and went straight into her office. The DI stared for a moment before turning to the two other women in the room. "Alright, now I'm not the world's most observant bloke, but something is definitely wrong."

Stella nodded in agreement. "Grace always looks tired at the moment."

Both officers turned to Eve. "What?" the scientist asked. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Because you're the obvious choice to talk to her," Spencer replied with a grin.

"You've known her longer," Eve countered.

"You're not a police officer," Stella said.

Eve sighed and threw her hands up. "Alright, fine. Give me a cup of tea to take into her."

"Yes?" Grace said when she heard a knock on the door.

Eve tried not to wince at her colleague's harsh tone. "Thought you might like a drink."

"Thank you." Grace didn't look up.

Eve put the mug carefully on the desk, turned to leave, then turned back again. "Grace, is everything alright?"

"Why?"

"You look like you haven't slept for weeks," Eve replied gently. "And you're short with everyone and we don't know why. I know Boyd's not here, but you don't have to channel his spirit."

It was meant as a joke, a way to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect. Grace's features had been starting to soften, but at the mention of Boyd's name, her eyes turned flinty and her jaw clenched.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine," Grace snapped. "I'm busy." She looked at the door.

Eve took the not-so-gentle hint. "Alright. But if you want to talk, you know where I am. Or Spence or Stella for that matter."

Grace didn't reply, and she waited until she heard her door shut before she ventured a glance up. Eve was heading to the lab, saying something to Spencer and Stella, who both looked briefly in Grace's direction, then away again.

Slowly standing, the profiler went around and shut all the blinds in her room, and when she returned to her desk, she sat down heavily and buried her head in her hands. The temptation to look over at the room across the hall was too much, even though Grace knew he wasn't there. She appreciated Eve's offer of a friendly ear, and God knew Grace could have used a friend, but there was no way she could tell the scientist what was wrong. Not that Boyd deserved any sort of loyalty or protection now, but talking about what had happened would mean Grace would have to admit the truth to herself.

*Ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms  
I've been trying my best to get along  
But that's okay, there's nothing left to say*

The sob escaped quickly and Grace choked back any more, hating herself for getting this undone again, and hating Boyd for being the one to make her come undone. Their relationship had been secret, something they both agreed on, but it had weathered everything until the argument over a colleague who had been dead for almost three years. Boyd had been pushing Grace farther and farther away in every sense, like a child pushing the boundaries their parents set, and finally Grace snapped. But she didn't tell him it was over. Not once did Grace utter those words, but Boyd seemed to think that's what she meant, and so he quickly sought solace with someone else. That was when Grace had told him to leave.

*Take your records, take your freedom  
Take your memories, I don't need them  
Take your space and take your reasons  
'Cause we have nothing left to weather*

Boyd hadn't even tried to apologise; he shouted and bawled as usual, and tried to make out that it was all Grace's fault. But all the years of working together and socialising occasionally, and finally entering a romantic relationship, had taken its toll on Grace and she was ready for jumping ship totally. Spending day after day with Boyd in the future would be more difficult than ever; he would be a living, breathing, walking monument to their history together, and that was something Grace did not need reminding of.

Wiping her eyes roughly, Grace grabbed her coat and bag and left her office. "I'll be back later," she shouted to Spencer and Stella, disappearing before either of them could reply.

"What the hell is going on?" Spencer asked, looking confused.

Stella just shrugged. "I have no idea."

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

*I went out driving, trying to clear my head  
I tried to sweep out all the rooms that my emotions lived  
I guess I'm feeling just a little tired of this  
And all the baggage that seems to still exist*

Before Grace realised where she was, she was home and it was lunchtime. Three hours of driving around London had done nothing to help her feel better and she was ready for pulling her hair out. She could only think of Boyd and it was slowly starting to drive her insane. Sometimes she thought of the way he tasted, how soft his lips were; sometimes she thought of the way he broke her heart so coldly and cruelly.

The only thought that rose above the others was that Grace never believed Boyd could ever be so unfeeling and malicious, but she was quickly realising that she really didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

Walking around her house, Grace could only recall once in her past where she had felt so desolate, and that was after Harry Taylor had dropped the bombshell that he was married with kids. Grace remembered clearly how she had almost fallen to pieces after that, and she refused to let it happen again, but she felt as though she was lacking the strength to move on.

*It seems the only blessing I have left to my name  
Is not knowing what we could have been  
What we should have been*

Looking through her wardrobe, Grace's eyes fell on something at the back, and reaching for it with a shaky hand, she withdrew the scarf Mel had given her for her birthday years ago. Grace hadn't worn it since Mel's death, but as soon as she touched the thin fabric, a memory of the young, smiling DC came back to her, as strong as if Mel was actually in the room with Grace. She gripped the scarf tightly in her fingers, drawing the strength she needed from the memories that came with it.

After a long time, Grace stood, the resolve settling over her like a protective blanket. Things would now be different. When Boyd returned, she wouldn't let his presence upset her, and she certainly wasn't going to let him run her off a team that was as much her family as his. Grace was determined to show Boyd just how tough she was; she wanted him to realise what he had lost, with no chance of getting it back.

*Some day, I'm gonna run across your mind  
But don't worry, I'll be fine  
I'm gonna be alright  
While you're sleeping with your pride  
Wishing I could hold you tight  
I'll be over you and on with my life  
But you'll think of me*

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

An ocean away, Boyd was staring at the ceiling, Sarah in his arms. "You okay?" she asked.

He took a little longer than he should have to answer, his mind elsewhere, his thoughts on someone else. "I'm fine," he replied. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but he'd made his bed and now he was lying in it.

FIN


End file.
